


you got me like a rocket

by seeingrightly



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 02:14:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20716409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingrightly/pseuds/seeingrightly
Summary: “I was thinking,” Patrick says from somewhere in the kitchen, “I was thinking of trying something new.”He sounds a little hesitant, and that’s unusual for Patrick, so David is concerned that he’s about to be met with a terrible haircut or surprise piercing - but that’s not Patrick. He’s uncertain of quieter, more internal things. David rounds the corner to find Patrick in his apron, his sleeves rolled up, and in front of him a tray covered in what look like small pumpkins. On closer inspection, they’re Rice Krispie treats, food dyed and molded into an unevenly round shape.Patrick bakes fairly often now that he has his own place, all things his mom taught him how to make, all without recipes. It’s not intuitive, just learned, a habit. He likes to surprise David, and baked goods are cost-effective if bad for David’s health, not that he stops himself. As far as David knows, Patrick hasn’t shared his baking with anyone else in town, and as far as David knows, Patrick hasn’t made something this… special.“Oh,” David says, “look at - those.”





	you got me like a rocket

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zach_stone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zach_stone/gifts).

> for aj, who requested scary movies + baking + cozy night in. happy anniversary!!!! <333333333333333
> 
> this takes places like midway through s5 i guess? don't think about it too hard. i didn't
> 
> watch me project onto a character about projecting onto a character
> 
> title from "this kiss" by faith hill; relatedly this fic contains spoilers for the movie "practical magic"

David can smell freshly baked goods as soon as he enters the hallway to Patrick’s apartment. It’s the kind of thing that reminds him, briefly, of his childhood home, and it feels both comforting and artificial at the same time; he’s not used to nice things being handed to him without obligation, yet, so he takes a moment to brace himself and prepare a normal smile before he puts his key in the door and opens it.

“What’s this?” he asks loudly, before he can even see where Patrick is, placing his bag on the entryway table and then removing his shoes.

Those he kicks under the table, because it’s a rule not to leave them in the middle of the floor, and Patrick gets annoyed when he breaks those kinds of rules. It’s not fun to push and break a rule that’s reasonable, David has learned, or to trip and nearly break an ankle because there’s no maids to clean up after him.

“I was thinking,” Patrick says from somewhere in the kitchen, “I was thinking of trying something new.”

He sounds a little hesitant, and that’s unusual for Patrick, so David is concerned that he’s about to be met with a terrible haircut or surprise piercing - but that’s not Patrick. He’s uncertain of quieter, more internal things. David rounds the corner to find Patrick in his apron, his sleeves rolled up, and in front of him a tray covered in what look like small pumpkins. On closer inspection, they’re Rice Krispie treats, food dyed and molded into an unevenly round shape.

Patrick bakes fairly often now that he has his own place, all things his mom taught him how to make, all without recipes. It’s not intuitive, just learned, a habit. He likes to surprise David, and baked goods are cost-effective if bad for David’s health, not that he stops himself. As far as David knows, Patrick hasn’t shared his baking with anyone else in town, and as far as David knows, Patrick hasn’t made something this… special.

“Oh,” David says, “look at - those.”

He reaches out to touch one, then stops, because Patrick looks like he doesn’t want David to do that. David’s not sure what Patrick is looking for, so he sidles around the island and put his hands on Patrick’s shoulders, leaning against his side.

“Did these take a long time to make?” David asks, because that seems safe.

“Not too long,” Patrick says. “More time than regular Rice Krispie treats, and following instructions was new, but next time would be faster, you know?”

“Next time?” David asks before he thinks better of it.

He doesn’t think, though, that there’s any judgment in his tone. He’s getting better at that - being careful with Patrick, even subconsciously, not defaulting to scorn every time.

“Well, they’re not really the right shape,” Patrick says, pointing to one and then another. “And the coloring isn’t very even. These wouldn’t all sell.”

David is quiet, and after a second, Patrick laughs.

“This is where you say, ‘ _ Sell? _ ’” Patrick asks, raising his voice to mimic David.

“Okay, fine,” David says, waving a hand dramatically between them, and raising his own voice when he asks, “Sell?”

Patrick laughs again and wraps an arm around David’s waist.

“We don’t have to sell them at the store if you don’t want to,” he says with genuine ease. “Twyla would probably take them at the diner. Seasonal tourism makes money, and I felt like trying something new, and I want to get them right even if don’t sell them, but, you know, I might as well sell them if they’re good.”

“And they’re gonna be good,” David finishes for him, warm and fond.

“They’re gonna be good,” Patrick repeats, leaning in to kiss him.

“So can I eat these, or -” David asks as soon as he pulls back, reaching down to grab one again, grimacing slightly in anticipation that Patrick might say no.

“Yeah, you’re my taste tester,” Patrick says.

“I prefer tastemaker,” David replies with his mouth full.

Patrick puts the rest of the Rice Krispie pumpkins into a big bowl and hands it directly to David, as though that’s a good idea, and then puts his hands on his waist to steer him toward the couch.

“Okay, spooky movie time,” Patrick says as they both sit down, grabbing the remote. “I feel like we should go classic. I know you don’t love gore, but that still leaves us a lot of options.”

“Does it?” David asks delicately.

“David, you can’t pick the movie every time we have a movie night,” Patrick says immediately. “Giving me options to pick from still counts as you picking the movie. I thought you didn’t even have strong opinions about scary movies!”

David chews his pumpkin a little sullenly.

“I don’t,” he says. “But you said  _ spooky _ movies just now. That’s different.”

“Please don’t make me watch Hocus Pocus,” Patrick says, his smile contradicting his words.

“No, no,” David says. “Well, not tonight.”

“The Craft?” Patrick guesses.

“No, the other other female-drive witch movie from the 90s,” David says, but Patrick purses his lips and shrugs. “Oh, come on! Practical Magic? Sandra Bullock?”

Patrick smiles again, exasperated and fond as usual.

“I don’t know what that is, so I assume we’re not watching anything else til I watch it.”

“You’re so smart,” David says, leaning in to kiss him. “I got Rice Krispies on you.”

“I’m shocked,” Patrick says.

They settle against one another, Patrick’s arm over David’s shoulders and the bowl across both of their laps, to watch the movie. As soon as it begins, a chill runs through David. The movie is so atmospheric in a way his life never was - natural and warm and familiar. The Owens house feels like home in a way that his wouldn’t, if he could ever go back to it. He can’t recall how many times he watched this movie when he was young, and then not so young. It doesn’t take very long for him to remember he’s never actually watched the movie with someone, certainly not with someone who knows him like Patrick does.

It’s a vulnerable thing, to see yourself so much in a character and wonder if someone else sees it too. Sally stays at home while her sister goes off and falls dangerously in love. Sally wishes never to fall in love so her heart will never break. It happens anyway, even though she should have known better, should have protected herself.

When the movie cuts to Sally’s small botanical shop, Patrick gasps, just a little. David knows why. The interior is white. There are big windows that let in lots of light. The products are neat and tidy and spread far apart on the shelves, all unlabeled or labeled by hand, homey but still sophisticated.

“Wow,” Patrick says. “I knew you loved Sandra Bullock, but -”

“Pay attention!”

Patrick grabs the remote and pauses the movie.

“David,” he says, so, so fond. “David, did you come up with the idea to use products made by local vendors because you’re not a witch and can’t sell potions you made yourself?”

He thought Patrick would see it; he didn’t think Patrick would see it this much.

“Yes,” David says helplessly. “Okay, yes, I wanted to be Sally when I grew up and I didn’t want to be Sally -”

“Hey,” Patrick says, leaning in to kiss him quickly. “Let’s watch the rest of the movie first.”

It’s not as uncomfortable as David expects, to know they both know as they watch. More than once, Patrick leans over to kiss the side of David’s head at key moments, and it makes David want to curl up and hide, but just for a second. He doesn’t need to.

“Would you kill a man for your sister?” Patrick asks mildly, most of the way through the movie.

“I don’t think I’d need to,” David replies. “Alexis has always handled her own wild problems. I’d help her bury the body, though.”

“You two would be so bad at burying a body.”

“Yeah.”

“Ted and I would end up doing all the work.”

“Yeah. Pay attention.”

Once the credits roll, Patrick lets out a satisfied little sigh and leans their heads together.

“You’re lucky that half the movies you make me watch are good.”

“Half?” David asks. “No, don’t distract me, tell me how good this one was.”

“It was very good,” Patrick says sincerely, shifting to face him on the couch. “I’m just a little sad picturing you as a kid making the same wish that Sally did. Or you as an adult making it.”

“Yeah, well, don’t worry,” David says, not quite able to make eye contact. “Sally learned that being in love can be a good thing and so did I.”

He still hasn’t said it many times, it still doesn’t feel natural, but it’s easier to acknowledge in this more objective way. There’s something different, too, he thinks, about saying that he loves Patrick and saying he’s in love with him, though he’s not sure what the difference is. Either way, it scares him to say it, and he does it anyway.

Patrick puts a hand on his thigh and squeezes. He’s about to say something very serious, David can tell.

“I’m gonna make sure you keep thinking it’s a good thing, no matter what happens,” he says, and David squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before nodding.

“Okay,” he says, because he doesn’t know if it will work, but he believes Patrick is going to try his hardest, and he knows Patrick doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.

“Okay,” Patrick says, squeezing his thigh again. “Now can we watch something scary? Please?”

“Oh, if we must,” David says. “But between that and all of this sugar you’re just asking for me to be awake all night.”

“Maybe that’s the plan,” Patrick says, elbowing him gently in the ribs.

“No, not that kind of awake.”

“I know,” Patrick says. “Don’t worry, I’ll rub your stomach when you don’t feel good later.”

“Thank you,” David says, and this time he really does let Patrick choose the movie.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter [@coralbluenmbr5](https://twitter.com/coralbluenmbr5)


End file.
